


My Other Half

by That_One_Curly_Haired_Fangirl



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Episode: s01e06 The Very Last Day of the Rest of Their Lives, Other, Pre-Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), episode rewrite, raphael theories
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:56:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22061431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/That_One_Curly_Haired_Fangirl/pseuds/That_One_Curly_Haired_Fangirl
Summary: Things go a little differently at the Airfield, and Crowley and Aziraphale make an important discovery(Title makes sense when you read it)
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 46





	My Other Half

**Author's Note:**

> Happy New Years Eve! (Or New Years depending on where in the world you are). I've had this idea bouncing around my head for months now, and free time meant I could finally write. So after a bit of stop and start writing between other ideas and many, many misspellings of Aziraphale, the fic is finished. I hope you all enjoy!

Aziraphale breathed a sigh of relief. The Horsemen were defeated. The children had done it; perhaps Madam Tracy had been right to prevent him from killing Adam. He turned to Crowley. “Well, it’s like I always say—”

“Oh it’s not over.” With no glasses, the emotion on Crowley’s face was clearer than ever. “Heaven and Hell still want their war. And—”

Whatever Crowley was about to say next was cut off abruptly as something came crashing onto Aziraphale’s head. It must have been whatever Madame Tracy had fired off; after all, what goes up must eventually come down.

Aziraphale was next aware of lying down on the airstrip, Crowley kneeling over him with so much panic in his eyes that Aziraphale almost felt the need to reassure him. Crowley was talking too frantically for him to get a word in though. “Aziraphale, angel, stay with me. Stay with me, _please_. I’ll do whatever you want, please—”

Aziraphale vaguely heard one of the humans muttering to another, but he couldn’t place which ones. “That head wound looks bad…”

Crowley ignored them, continuing to plead. “Please, angel, we’ll go to France again, we can get those odd little melons you like that you pour wine into—”

Aziraphale squeezed Crowley’s hand, not quite sure when they’d ended up holding hands. “It’s port, dear boy. You put port in the melons.” He winced at the pain that was rather hard to ignore. “And I’m not sure I have that long. It’s a shame, I only just got this corporation…”

“No no no no no no no.” Crowley’s eyes had gone full yellow, no pretense of whites remaining. “You can’t go back up to Heaven, they won’t let you back down here. And I can’t—“ His voice broke. “I can’t do this without you, angel. Please, Aziraphale—”

“I’m sorry.” Aziraphale looked to the sky. This corporation didn’t have long left, and while he wanted to be there for Crowley, seeing him like this hurt almost as much as Aziraphale’s head.

Crowley looked down at Aziraphale desperately, seeing beyond the mortal plane to where the real essence of Aziraphale was beginning to detach from his corporation. Despite Aziraphale’s warning from earlier in the bar, Crowley had an idea. “Heaven can’t have you. I can’t risk not getting you back.” Crowley reached in and grabbed Aziraphale, pulling him out of his own corporation and into Crowley’s.

There was a blinding flash of light, so bright that all the humans (including Adam, who despite knowing everything that had happened wasn’t quite sure where he stood in that area now) had to look away.

The light faded, and everyone turned to the being now sitting awkwardly on the airstrip. They still looked like Crowley, but…

Anathema squinted at them. “Your aura… I didn’t get a good look at the aura of either of the men who stole my book, but I don’t think you’re either of them.”

“No.” The being shook their head, then noticed something sitting on the ground next to them. They held it up. “Is this your book?” When she nodded, they tossed her the book. “Catch.”

The book sailed through the air, right to Anathema, who caught it. A small piece of paper fluttered out and landed on Aziraphale’s now empty but still bleeding corporation, unnoticed by everyone.

It was Adam’s turn to stare curiously at the being on the airstrip. “You aren’t two people. How are you not two people? You were two people a moment ago.”

“I’m not sure.” They rubbed a hand on their—Crowley’s?—head. “Two people’s memories from 6000 years coming together all at once gives your brain a little too much to process to think about much else.”

Before anyone else could ask further questions, a spot of asphalt began to push up near them, revealing a head with a fly on it surrounded by flies. Once the rest of the person was clear, part of the memories echoing in their head produced a name. _Beelzebub_. Another person appeared out of a bolt of lightning next to zir, but they didn’t have time to focus on that as Beelzebub strode over, surveying the two bodies on the asphalt.

“Well, I wouldn’t have finally expected you to have killed your adversary after all this time, but today is full of unexpected momentzz.” Ze looked at them critically. “But don’t think this will get you any mercy in Hell; you’ve gotten into far too much trouble for that, traitor.”

“Oh I didn’t kill—and I’m not—“ Before they could finish either sentence (not that they really figured out who exactly they were yet), the other newly-appeared being spoke.

“I would say it’s a shame about Aziraphale, but I’m not sure what he was expecting, going against the Divine Plan.” _Gabriel_ , another part of them remembered. “Might save us some work, although I can only imagine the paperwork…”

The two of them shifted their attention to looking for the antichrist, but something Gabriel said pulled back a memory, something old—

_“I’m not sure what you were expecting, with your behavior.” Gabriel was standing over them._

_“Gabriel, please.” They were strapped down. This wasn’t Aziraphale or Crowley; this was **them**._

_“It’ll be fine.” Gabriel was there most prominently, but they could tell others were there, but not many. “We just need to remove the part of you that’s causing all these crawly little doubts to enter into your mind. The part that’s asking too many questions, that Lucifer sunk his claws into.” Gabriel had some sort of blade in his hand. “There might not be enough of you to scavenge a full archangel, but I think we could manage a principality at least.”_

_“No, no please—“ They were pleading, trying to squirm out of the bonds._

_“This will be easier if you cooperate.” Gabriel began to lower the blade, plunge it directly into them, and cut them into pieces. “Hold still, Raphael.”_

Their eyes snapped open. Raphael. They’d been—they are?—an archangel.

Back in the present, they looked at where Gabriel and Beelzebub were saying something they couldn’t make out from here to the antichrist. It didn’t look good, so they stood on unsteady legs (had they ever had a corporation before this? Was there a need for one before angels and demons started going to Earth to interact with humans?) and made their way over.

Gabriel and Beelzebub were talking to—Adam, that’s right. Something about starting the war; they couldn’t have that. Thankfully Adam didn’t seem quite on board.

Still, Gabriel was getting in the child’s face. “--it’s part of the Great Plan!”

“Are you sure about that?” Raphael walked over, resisting the urge these hips seemed to have to saunter. Was that just part of Crowley’s corporation, or was it something he did? Raphael didn’t think now was the right time to try to figure it out.

Beelzebub glared at them. “Crowley, shut up.”

“No, I want to know. Do you really think you know The Plan?” Raphael tried standing a little straighter. They probably still sounded a bit like Crowley since they were using his corporation, but surely someone would have noticed by now. Their voice had to sound different than his.

Gabriel looked dismissive. “I think I would know God’s plan better than some demon would.”

“Oh, you really haven’t realized, have you?” Raphael took a breath and stretched out their wings into the other plane of existence where they knew Gabriel and Beelzebub would be able to see if they really tried. “Did you never realize who the demon Aziraphale spent so much time with was? That perhaps somehow the two parts of me that you tore apart were trying to come back together?”

That finally seemed to be enough to make Gabriel pause; his violet eyes widened in shock as he finally saw what--or rather who--was in front of him. “It can’t be—”

Beelzebub hadn’t quite caught up yet. “Four wings? What kind of angel has four wingzz?”

Huh. Raphael turned back, so unused to having any form at all after all this time that they hadn’t realized something was missing. They only had two pairs of wings; one snow white and one pitch black. They turned back to Gabriel. “What did you do to my wings?”

Gabriel shrugged, regaining some pretense of aloof nonchalance. “There was no good way to split the last pair of wings.”

“Why you—“ Before they could truly get into it with Gabriel, they were interrupted.

“Enough of that.” Beelzebub turned back to Adam. “It is your job to start the war, and if you do not there will be consequencezz.” Zir voice buzzed extra on the last word, the control ze was attempting to seem human enough for this plane slipping.

“But I already said I don’t want to.” Adam was remarkably composed considering the circumstances; he didn’t seem fazed by any of this.

“Well, you have to.” Gabriel leaned down to be on Adam’s level in a way that just seemed demeaning.

“No he doesn’t.” Raphael moved protectively behind Adam. “Again, how do you know this isn’t the true Ineffable Plan? None of us would know if it was.”

Gabriel looked frustrated, if more wary now. “God does not play games with the universe.”

6000 years of two people’s memories said otherwise. Raphael looked at Gabriel incredulously. “Where have you been?”

Gabriel and Beelzebub shared a look before they walked away to talk to each other. Adam turned to Raphael. “Are you really an Archangel?”

“Well…” Raphael flexed their wings, feeling the missing pair more now. “I was. Then I was torn mostly in half, and the two halves were left alone long enough to become a separate angel and demon, although I’m not sure how good at it either of them were at it according to their head offices. So now I’m—”

“An abomination?” Gabriel and that subtle-but-there smug glare were back.

Raphael shrugged. “You made me this, so…”

“You were never meant to come back together.” Gabriel made a face at them before turning to Adam. “And you. You are not doing what you’re meant to either. You disobedient little—”

Raphael smirked. “Maybe he takes after his father after all.”

“Stop it.” Beelzebub glared at them before turning to Adam. “We will tell your father about this. and he will not be pleazzed.” Zir voice buzzed, and ze disappeared, along with Gabriel. 

The humans said something. Raphael was sure they knew the names of most of them, or at least some of them, or at least Aziraphale or Crowley did, and did that count as Raphael knowing? Everything was still so…scrambled.

Before they could think to much more about it, there was a dramatic shift. Raphael felt like something was grabbing the demonic part of them and pulling as if trying to drag that part of them back to hell, not realizing that Crowley didn’t quite exist at the moment. The ground was rumbling, the humans were reacting, and a very angry yet distantly familiar presence was trying to break up out of the Earth’s surface—

They caught the end of the conversation between the humans. “--whatever it is, it’s angry.” Book girl was grabbing the arm of the lanky man next to her for balance, although it was unclear who was steadying who.

“It’s Satan himself.” Raphael looked at Adam. “They told your father, and he’s not happy. He’s coming.”

“My father?” Adam looked confused. “What are we supposed to do now?”

“Die, I suppose.” While a part of Raphael wanted to give, up, but part of him felt like he should still fight more. Raphael had barely seen Earth really, and it definitely felt like there was unfinished business between Crowley and Aziraphale; was it narcissism for the two long-separated halves of you to be in love with each other? Plus, from their memories Earth seemed like it might be a nice place. Maybe it was best if things didn’t end now after all…

Oh, choosing to fight was not something Raphael could do with Satan breathing down their neck. Not sure whether they were remembering it from Crowley or themselves, Raphael snapped, and then—

Adam looked around at the white sand around them. “Where are we? What happened to my friends?”

“Not quite sure this is a ‘where’ as much as a frozen ‘when’.” Raphael looked at Adam seriously. “I’ve frozen time to give us the…time, I suppose, to decide if it’s worth trying to prevent Satan from ending the world.”

“Well I think so.” Adam crossed his arms. “Wouldn’t have brought my friends and stopped the Horsemen if I didn’t.”

“True.” Raphael nodded in acknowledgement. “But that was work for them, as much as they enjoyed it. This is Satan himself, and it’s personal.”

Adam seemed to falter a little at that. “Can I stop Satan? I’m just a kid.”

Raphael drew on everything inside themselves for some nugget of wisdom to help. If the kid wanted to save the world, they’d support it. “That’s not a bad thing to be. And you are the Antichrist; reality will listen to you. Use that power.”

“Okay.” Adam looked towards where he could probably vaguely sense Satan just as Raphael could. “Okay.”

Raphael took Adam’s hand; one part of them seemed to remember noticing humans found touch comforting. “Whatever you do, I’m with you. I may or may not be an archangel anymore, but I’m with you.”

“You are.” Adam looked at them, something in his eyes revealing that he wasn’t an ordinary eleven-year-old boy, but not in a menacing way. “You’re different, but you’re an archangel.”

“Good to know.” Raphael nodded solemnly. “I’m going to restart time now; are you ready?”

“I am.” Adam had a sense of determination that Raphael had to respect.

“Here we go.” Raphael moved something that might have been a part of Crowley’s car, and then—

They were back at the airfield, and a crack was appearing in the asphalt in the distance. A low voice burst out of it, followed by a hand. “Where is he? Where is my disobedient son?”

“You’re not my dad!” Adam was shouting.

Satan may have responded as he continued to pull himself out of the crack, but Raphael was distracted by the ripples through reality from Adam’s words. “That’s it Adam!”

“Dads don’t wait until you’re eleven to say hello, then show up just to punish you!” Adam’s power was building, consciously or not. “If I’m going to get in trouble, it’ll be with my real dad, not you!”

There was a shouting, then smoke as Adam’s words caused a ripple to flow through reality so strong it nearly knocked Raphael to their knees. When the smoke cleared, the asphalt was seamless once more, and Satan’s scream had been replaced by the distant rumble of a car motor.

“What is that?” The gangly human with book girl looked confused.

“My real dad.” Adam smiled; he probably had felt the shift in reality as much as Raphael had. He looked at his friends. “We are probably still about to get into trouble though.”

“That’s alright.” Raphael looked around at the humans, trying to remember their names, but two lifetimes of 6000 years of memories was too much. They were getting a headache. “You know what? I’m going back to being them.” They walked over to Aziraphale’s corporation, kneeling next to it.

Adam glanced cautiously between them and the approaching car. “Want help?”

“No, with your real father who he is now I don’t think you’ll have powers for long.” Raphael smiled reassuringly. “Besides, I was—am?--the archangel of healing. I’ve got this.” They turned to Aziraphale’s still slugglishly bleeding corporation. “I hope.” They reached for the wound and concentrated, drawing a miracle from who-knows-where, and then…

Aziraphale’s corporation was breathing, and whole. Empty inside, but alive.

“Alright.” Raphael had two corporations, now they just needed to separate into two beings. They grimaced. “Harder then you’d expect, sorting out angelic and demonic. They’re more the same then you’d think.” Still, Crowley and Aziraphale had had so much time to become their own beings instead of just the part of Raphael that Heaven wanted and the part they rejected. So it wasn’t painful as Raphael expected as they pulled the two parts of themselves apart and pushed part into Aziraphale’s corporation and kept the part that felt like Crowley where it was.

Aziraphale awoke groggily on the asphalt, Crowley lying next to him. He clenched his hand on his chest, feeling a bit of paper and absentmindedly tucking it in his pocket. He looked up at the gathered humans, who were watching them with a mix of concern, curiosity, wariness, and interest, in varying amounts. He smiled. “We’re alright.”

“Speak for yourself.” Crowley groaned and rubbed his head, pulling a pair of sunglasses from his jacket and putting them on. “My corporation feels like it doesn’t fit quite right anymore.”

Before anyone else could respond, the car finally pulled up, and the man that must have been Arthur Young got out. “Does anyone care to tell me what is going on here?”

\------

Hours later, Crowley and Aziraphale sat at a bus stop, passing a bottle of wine back and forth. They’d already returned the Horsemen’s items to the delivery man, but a certain topic hadn’t quite come up yet.

Aziraphale took a long drink from the bottle before passing it to Crowley. “So. We are… we were…”

“Yes.” Crowley took a generous drink of his own.

“Did you know?” Aziraphale turned to him curiously.

“I—uh—um—well.” Crowley adjusted his sunglasses. “No one really remembered things clearly from before the Fall, far as I could tell. I remembered some things, but a fall that long is bound to do some damage to your head.”

“Hmm.” Aziraphale accepted the bottle back and took another drink. “No one in Heaven speaks much of things before the Great War, so I never thought of it much either I’m afraid.”

“But we’re…” Crowley trailed off, staring ahead.

“Yes. But still ourselves, it would seem.” Aziraphale shifted on the bench. “Or mostly, perhaps. I don’t feel quite right; are we sure they put us back exactly as we were supposed to be?”

“What, angel,” Crowley smiled, “feeling a little demonic?”

Aziraphale looked less amused. “Are you feeling particularly divine?”

Crowley shrugged and sputtered before something down the road caught his attention. “Oh, the bus is coming.”

Aziraphale squinted to make it out. “It says Oxford.”

“It’ll go to London.” Crowley sat back, finishing the wine. “The driver won’t know why, but it will.”

“Hmm.” Aziraphale turned back to Crowley. “I suppose I should get him to take me to the bookshop.”

Crowley paused, and when he spoke his voice and expression were soft. “It burned down, remember?”

Amid everything, Aziraphale had forgotten, or had been able to ignore it at least. But now…everything was hitting him at once. Had his old corporation had this many emotions?

Crowley’s voice drew him out of his thoughts. “You can stay at my place, if you’d like.”

His response was automatic from years of denial. “I don’t think my side would like that very much.”

Crowley seemed to be resisting the urge to snort. “I don’t think either side knows what to do with us at the moment. We’re two halves of an unholy archangel; I doubt anyone would take us now.”

Aziraphale hesitated, but he couldn’t find a counterargument. “Well, alright. I suppose we have a lot to talk about.”

“That we do.” Crowley stood up as the bus pulled to a stop in front of them. “Come on, angel.”

They boarded the bus together, and sat side by side. If they held hands, no one but themselves (and perhaps Raphael) would know.

**Author's Note:**

> So this is based on a post I saw about 6 months ago when the "Crowley is Raphael" headcannons first started taking off in earnest (still kinda love that headcannon tbh) and someone pointed out that Aziraphale's name basically means "Also Raphael," so it was Raphael and his spouse, Also Raphael. Which, combined with Neil Gaiman saying the characters were originally one character that got split into two, led to this. 
> 
> Also, Crowley definitely starts referring to Aziraphale as "my better half" after this


End file.
